


The Space Between

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: The Spider and the Hawk [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But only a little, Clint's Farm, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, fill-in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-02-24 10:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2577692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On some level, Clint had always thought of the farm as theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who haven't heard, it turns out that Clint owns the farm we saw in the "Avengers: Age of Ultron" sneak peek clips. Naturally, I couldn't leave news like that alone.
> 
> The first two chapters are set after the first "Avengers" (and "Finding the Words," for those who have been reading the series), and the second two are set after "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" (and "All My Secrets Away").

She should let him sleep.

Natasha told herself this for the 15th time as she looked up at the darkened windows of Clint's apartment, trying for a slightly more convincing tone than she'd managed earlier. She'd just gotten back in from an assignment in Gaza, her first solo mission since the Battle of New York, and he was due to leave for Colombia in the morning. He needed all the rest he could get, especially since she knew the nightmares hadn't gone away completely.

The fact that she missed his face was irrelevant to the situation.

She headed to her apartment, which she hadn't seen since she and Clint had left on the mission before this one. She didn't pretend she had any real interest in seeing it now, but at least it was a relatively safe place to get a few hours sleep. Her needs used to be that simple, back in the old—

The lights were on in her apartment.

She stopped the car outside the immediate visual range of the windows, approaching the rest of the way on foot. It was her kitchen lights that were on, blinds pulled back so the light could be easily seen from the street. There was no movement from inside, though she thought she could see an unidentified figure sitting on the edge of the counter.

Natasha couldn't stop her lips from curving upward, something warm and loose in her chest.  She hurried inside and up the stairs, stopping at the last minute and smoothing her hair to make it look like she hadn't. Only then did she unlock the door, raising an eyebrow at the man calmly eating a bowl of her Captain Crunch. "I could have killed you, you know. I tend to do that when people break into my apartment."

Clint just took another bite of cereal. "That's why I left all the lights on. Mysterious movements in the dark are a sure sign something's wrong."

Her expression softened as she took in the tired lines around his eyes. "You're going to have to be on a plane at the crack of dawn. You should be sleeping."

He lifted a shoulder as if it wasn't a big deal.  "Nightmares wouldn't let me." The flash of concern she tried to suppress must have shown on her face – a bad habit, as far as Clint was concerned – because he sighed and set the bowl down next to him. "I knew you were due back tonight." He slid down off the counter. "Figured it'd be better to not sleep here than at my place."

She stayed where she was, arms folded across her chest. "Lucky for you I was feeling mature and responsible, or I'd be busy breaking into your apartment right now."

Clint smiled at that, his whole face lighting up. "Really?"

Natasha made an exasperated noise. "You were supposed to be appalled at your terrible decision-making skills." He held his arms out, and any willpower she’d been clinging to crumbled in an instant. "You dork," she murmured, moving towards him before she even finished speaking. She settled against his chest, sliding her arms around his back, and she tucked her head against the crook of his neck as his own arms settled around her.

"Yeah, but I'm your dork," he murmured against her hair, and for a moment they just held each other in the quiet. Honestly, it was better than those few hours of sleep would have been.

After a moment, she felt him smile. "It's probably not going to help my image to tell you I bought a farm, is it?"

Surprised, she pulled back only far enough to look up at him. "That's not some kind of euphemism I don't understand, is it?"

Clint looked torn between amusement and embarrassment in equal measure. "No, it's an actual farm. Chickens and everything." Then his expression sobered. "I just ... I needed someplace that didn't care what my head was like."

Natasha stroked her thumb lightly over the curve of his cheek, aching for him. "I understand," she said softly, then smiled a little. "Please tell me you didn't waste the opportunity to name one of your chickens after Stark."

He chuckled. "You should know me better than that." He pulled her close again, one hand smoothing up and down her back, and she could feel the brief moment he held his breath before he spoke. "I could show it to you, sometime." His voice was artificially light, which for Clint was far more telling than hesitation would have been. "If you wanted."

Natasha went still at that, wondering just how deep the question went. They knew more about each other than probably anyone else did, including Fury, but there were still plenty of secrets they both held on to. It was an unspoken rule between them to never pry, respecting whatever walls the other had put up, but that didn't mean they couldn't let the other person in to their secret spaces if they wanted.

To her ears, Clint's offer seemed like an invitation to more than just a piece of property.

After the silence stretched on too long, he sighed again. "It's okay," he said quietly, not bothering with the false lightness this time. There was just quiet acceptance, as if this was the answer he'd expected. "I knew you weren't a country girl."

She closed her eyes, not as surprised as she should have been when her heart sped up. "I will out-milk you any day of the week, Barton. Just name the time and place."

It was Clint's turn to go still, and when he finally spoke his voice was thicker than it had been. "I don't have a cow."

She smiled. "Then you'll just have to introduce me to the chickens, won't you?"

He tightened his arms around her. "I can definitely do that." 


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't even know where in the hell she was.

Clint stared up at the darkened ceiling of Natasha's bedroom, trying very hard not to imagine what was so awful about the mission that they wouldn't even let her say what country she was going to. That was _never_ classified, if for no other reason than to let anyone else out on assignment know that they might be running into another agent.

He sat up, pushing aside the unmade bedding as he tried to decide how much trouble to get into. They were always careful to wait for each other in the relative privacy of their apartments – they had disabled Fury's bugs often enough that he'd finally stopped putting them in – but she was already a day late coming back from a mission so potentially awful that Fury didn't want anyone else knowing a thing about it. Clint had no doubt she could pull it off, whatever it was, but she wouldn't think twice about emptying herself out to do it. He had no idea who was backing her up, let alone whether or not they could be trusted.

He had to get to her, now, and he was just about ready to burn the world down to do it.

Just as he was pushing himself to his feet, Clint heard the quiet sound of a key in the lock, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing. Then ... there was nothing.

Shit.

Natasha was still by the door when he found her, forehead leaning against the wood and shoulders slumped as if she no longer had the energy to hold herself upright. He went to her, curving his body around her smaller one as he wrapped his arms around her middle. "Tell me what you need me to do," he whispered into her hair.

She turned around in his arms, her own sliding around him as she pressed herself even closer. When he felt wetness against the curve of his neck, Clint's insides went cold as he realized the full depth of how bad it was. He held onto her more tightly, hand cradling the back of her head. 

When she did finally speak, the words were barely a breath. "I need to not be me for a little while."

He closed his eyes, hating everyone at SHIELD for just a moment. "Done."

000

They both had overnight bags ready, so there wasn't even a need to pack. He just loaded her in his truck and drove, letting her stare out the window until sleep finally overtook her. Once he was certain she was out, he left a very terse message for Fury informing him that Strike Team Delta was taking some vacation time, effective immediately.

She was still asleep when they crossed the Pennsylvania state line, and stayed that way as Clint turned onto a particular dirt road that looked the same as all the others in this part of the state. It was 4 a.m., too early to wake up the old farmer who watched the place for him, but he'd been told to expect surprise visits.

He leaned across the seat, knuckles gentle against Nat's cheek. "Wake up, sunshine," he murmured.

She jumped awake, more startled than she should have been, and Clint stayed absolutely still and let her brain remember where she was. He could almost feel the tension leak out of her as she sat up, peering through the windshield. "Where are—" The question broke off as she realized the answer, and she turned to look at him with something that looked almost like apology in her eyes.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. "I told you I was going to drag you out here at some point," he said gently. "But I think we should probably wait until it's actually daylight to meet the chickens."

Natasha's own lips curved upward briefly in the ghost of a smile. "I'll insist on it." Then her expression went fragile for a moment. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know it's safe here." He lifted her hand, pressing his lips against the tips of her fingers. "It's a good place to put yourself back together."

She shifted her hand so that her fingers were interlaced with his. "But it's your place."

He tightened his hand around hers. "Which means it's also yours." The words had never come out that easily before, no matter how deeply he'd felt them, but right now he wanted to give her anything she needed.

She swallowed at that, blinking hard against eyes that were suddenly wet again. Then she bent to kiss his fingers, her expression surprisingly fierce for a moment before she let him go and slid out of the passenger's side. "It's beautiful here," she said finally, voice steadier than it had been since the moment she'd come back. "I'm amazed at your taste."

His own expression was easier as he followed her out of the truck. "I'd be more flattered if there was actually enough light for you to _see_ any of it."

"I can feel it." Natasha turned as he walked around to her side, voice softening as she looked up at him. As soon as he got close enough, she reclaimed his hand. "It feels like home."

The word rocked him, a gift he hadn't expected. He had to clear his throat before he could speak again, and when he managed it his voice was still scratchy. "Remind me to get a rug."

She smiled at that, the expression far more solid than it had been before. "Tell me you at least have a bed."

"That I can promise you." He led her toward the farmhouse. "I may have to warn you about the rooster, though."

"We'll be fine. I'm armed."

Clint laughed. "Why didn't I think of that?"  

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my weekly posts and original short fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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